CG26 P is for Per ardua ad astra
by Miz Em
Summary: Summer 2007 Alphabet challenge at the Numb3rs Forum. Sequel to Y is for Yours Always. AU, after Janus List.  This is the last in my series. Q is for Quagmire is the 1st. There will be no further updates to this piece.


Summer 2007 Alphabet challenge at the Numb3rs Forum. Sequel to Y is for Yours Always. AU, after Janus List. This is the last in my series. Q is for Quagmire is the 1st. There will be no further updates to this piece.

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_**Per ardua ad astra**__ - Through difficulties to the stars_

Latin translation from yuni dot com, Latin Quotes and phrases  
--

The day of the funeral dawned bright and clear but slowly turned dreary as the time for the funeral Mass approached.

Colby hovered anxiously over Hannah as everyone milled around the outside of the church. He had tried to show her since Sean died that he held no grudge against Sean for his feelings, that he was in fact grateful to him for saving her life. But she was mired in guilt, in a belief that it was somehow her fault Sean had loved her, her fault that he had thrown his life away for her. The sadness in her eyes tore Colby apart, especially knowing that he was unable take the burden away.

"Give her time," Luke said quietly as he came up behind Colby. He smiled at Colby, "And give her a little space." He held up a hand when Colby started to protest. "She probably feels like she betrayed you in some way, and your hovering isn't helping." Patting Colby on the shoulder, Luke continued, "I'll talk to her when the time is right, and we'll see where that leads, alright?"

Gradually, everyone began to file into the church. Colby's eyes narrowed when he noticed the closed casket, but didn't say anything as he guided Hannah into the front pew. Although Melanie had broken up with Sean some time earlier, she sat in the front pew with them. Hannah had thought it was the right thing to do. The team from DDFS were all in the pews normally reserved for family, they were the closest thing to family that Sean had. By the time, Colby found Steele and Luke, the Mass was beginning and he had to focus on what the priest was saying.

Hannah held herself together throughout the Mass. She noted with sadness that there were only a few sprays and wreaths around the casket. It was a beautiful church, with stained glass windows all around it, and she wished it had been a sunny day. The church would have been beautiful with sunlight streaming through those stained glass windows. He was a man who spent his life in the service of his country, one who sacrificed his life to save another, and it wasn't even a beautiful day for his funeral. She sighed softly, wishing that he hadn't had to sacrifice his life to save hers.

Quietly she listened to the Mass, letting the words wash over her. She hadn't even known that Sean was Catholic, nor that he attended Mass regularly in this church. Yet another thing she didn't know about the man who gave his life for her.

When the priest began to recite the twenty-third psalm, Hannah joined in softly, taking comfort in the familiar words.

"He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:  
He leadeth me beside the still waters.  
He restoreth my soul:  
He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name' sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,  
I will fear no evil: For thou art with me;  
Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.  
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies;  
Thou annointest my head with oil; My cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,  
and I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever."

As the priest continued with the Mass, the peace of the psalm soaked through her, and she felt the guilt and pain of loss slowly easing from her soul. With a quiet sigh, she slipped her hand into Colby's and leaned against him. She felt him kiss her on her temple, and turned to smile up at him through her tears.

Tears that began to fall in earnest as Sean's favorite hymn was sung as the closing hymn.

"When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,  
when sorrows like sea billows roll;   
whatever my lot, thou has taught me to say  
It is well, it is well with my soul."

_It is finally well with my soul, Sean. You have my gratitude for what you did, I don't begrudge you the choice you made. I just wish there had been a different way. I wish things could have been different for you._ Hannah thought, _May your soul rest in peace._

The funeral procession to the cemetary was simple. Steele said it had been Sean's decision to not have a full military funeral, so there would be no police escort, no twenty-one gun salute. There would only be the hearse, a limo, and the cars of those who attended the Mass in the funeral procession. Sean hadn't even wanted a wake. Steele had followed Sean's wishes to the letter but for one thing, he had insisted on a bugler, who would play Taps at the end of the funeral. 

The sky had turned a sulky, pewter grey by the time they got to the cemetary, and the wind had picked up, swirling the leaves around the grounds.

Colby, Steele and Luke served as pallbearers, and surprisingly, Don, David and Charlie had offered to serve as pallbearers. Hannah leaned against Alan Eppes, with Melanie on the other side of him, as they followed the casket to the gravesite. Fiona, Megan, Millie and Amita were right behind them, followed closely by the rest of the former DDFS agents.

Steele got up to say a few words after the priest finished the graveside service. "We've come here today to honor Sean O'Malley. We knew him for the kindness and the laughter that he so generously shared. He has been asked much in the service of the country we all love and protect. And he has willingly and unstintingly given much in that same service, with courage and with dignity."

He paused and looked in Hannah's brimming eyes, "Men like Sean show us the true meaning of courage, of devotion, and of sacrifice. I am honored to have known him. And I know we will carry him in our hearts, as I know we will live and laugh, as he would have wanted."

Hannah's tears finally fell, as the bugler played each plaintive note of Taps.

Steele cleared his throat, "_Requiscat in Pace_, my friend. It was an honor to serve with you."

Slowly, people began to disperse. Steele glanced over and saw Luke heading towards Hannah and Colby. He started in that direction as well.

Luke slipped an arm around Hannah, with Colby following close behind as they headed towards their cars. "Are you alright, Hannah?" he asked gently.

She gave him a teary smile, "Yes, actually, I am now. I hate that he had to do it, and I hate that he suffered so. But I'm at peace with his decision."

He hugged her and kissed her on her cheek, "_Per ardua ad astra_, Hannah," he said softly. "He's been through the difficulties and he's reached the stars. Sean's done with the mortal coil, and in a much better place now."

Hannah smiled and stopped to hug both Luke and Steele before getting into the limo.

"I'll be just a moment, Hannah," Colby told her before he shut the door. He turned to face Steele and Luke and eyed them for a moment. "What's with the closed casket?"

"I don't know what you mean," Steele said mildly.

"He was still in one piece, there was no need for a closed casket," Colby was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"It was what Sean wanted," Luke said impassively.

Colby shook his head at them, "He's still alive, isn't he?"

"It was what Sean wanted, Colby. You should leave it at that," Steele said implacably.

He stared at them for a few minutes, then gave up and got in the limo with Hannah. But he didn't miss the look they exchanged as the limo pulled away.

--

_A little over a year later_

Father Seamus Corrigan picked his way carefully across the muddy tracks towards the paddock, and paused for a moment to watch the man in the paddock as he coaxed the reluctant filly first into the paddock then into a trot around the paddock.

Smiling at the sight, he pondered the man he was watching. Conor Halloran was an enigma he had yet to figure out, even though he, of all the villagers, spent a great deal of time with Conor.

He had first turned up in the village of Kilmara, County Kildare, where Father Seamus was parish priest, about a year ago. Gaunt and grey with pain, he had sat in the last pew of the church. He had disappeared before the Mass had ended but had shown up again the next Sunday. That time, Father Seamus spoke to him for a few minutes before the Mass and persuaded him to stay for tea. He had been pleased to see later that the Mass had seemed to bring peace into Conor's eyes.

There had been many inconsistencies about the man. Obviously of Irish descent, his Irish lilt still hadn't quite rung true, and his knowledge hadn't seemed as natural as for an Irishman born and bred. And the man's alertness bespoke a life of staying a step ahead. Staying a step ahead of what, Father Seamus didn't know, but whatever it might have been, he was sure of one thing, Conor Halloran had come home to Ireland to heal.

News about him had spread through the tiny village like wildfire. Halloran had bought a small farm about ten miles away in the countryside, and he had brought several horses with him. With the Irish National Stud in Tully not far away, and Irish horse breeding such an important industry in County Kildare, Father Seamus supposed that it made sense, though he was hardly an authority since he wasn't himself a horseman.

For his part, Halloran had mostly kept to himself, though he had occasionally lingered in the church after services. As time passed, Father Seamus had spent many Sunday afternoons with him, discussing anything and everything, but still, he couldn't say that he knew very much about the man himself. He did know though, that Halloran had earned the villagers' respect and friendship, mostly due to a single incident.

A rabid dog had been terrorizing the countryside, and Halloran had finally hunted it down and shot it, calmly and efficiently. And at a distance that no other villager would have even thought to attempt. Slowly the rumor began to grow about Halloran's prowess with the rifle, till Halloran himself had laughed when Father Seamus had told him about it. "There's no way any human can shoot at the distance they're claiming I did, Father," he had said amiably. But he had changed the subject and the moment passed before Father Seamus could find out more.

And Halloran could occasionally be found in the pub, standing a round of drinks to anyone who happened to be there. Father Seamus smiled in amusement at the thought, after all, that would win the friendship of any Irishman anywhere in the world. Father Seamus himself had spent a few of those evenings in the pub when Halloran was there, and early in their friendship, could have sworn that there was a little surprise whenever Halloran caught sight of himself in the mirror.

The ladies loved him too, Father Seamus thought in wry amusement. His housekeeper had kept him informed, whether he wanted to know or not, of which girl was swooning over Halloran and what she'd done to try to attract his attention. But as far as he knew, Halloran never reciprocated. His housekeeper thought she saw a sadness in his eyes and she was certain a woman had put it there. 

Father Seamus sighed softly, he was woolgathering again and he had far too much to do. Then he froze where he stood.

Conor Halloran had whipped around at his sigh, and in that split second, the cold, hard look in his vivid blue eyes scared Father Seamus. Then the blue eyes softened into welcome, and Father Seamus relaxed fractionally. He began the trek to the paddock.

"_Dia dhuit,_ Father Seamus," Conor called out the greeting as Father Seamus approached the paddock. "What brings you out here on this dreary day?"

"_Dia is Muire dhuit,_ Conor," Father Seamus returned the greeting amiably. "A letter came for you, addressed to general delivery Kilkea, and the postman brought it to the church." He wondered at the surprise in Conor's face. "It's from America, but there's no return address." Father Seamus patted his various pockets absently before producing it.

"_Go raibh maith agat,_ Father," Conor said in thanks as he reached for the letter.

Wondering if it was really wariness he saw in Conor's eyes, Father Seamus replied, "_Tá failte romhat._" When he realized that Conor wasn't going to open the letter in his presence, Father Seamus said briskly, "Well, I'll see you on Sunday. Will you stay for tea after the service?"

Conor smiled affectionately at the priest, "Of course. I wouldn't miss it for the world. _Rath Dé ort_, Father."

"_Slán agat!_" Father Seamus called out as he left.

Conor took a deep breath, and hoped that Father Seamus hadn't noticed how startled he had been when he recognized Luke's handwriting. Sean O'Malley had died over a year ago, and Conor Halloran hadn't expected to be contacted by anyone that Sean had known. Or loved. Pushing the wistful thought away, he slipped the letter into a pocket, and led the filly back to the stable. He groomed her carefully, and far more slowly than he needed to, putting off opening the letter for as long as he could.

Finally, he headed back to his cottage, and made himself a cup of tea. He glanced at his reflection in the glass door of the cabinet as he took out a teacup. No one would know him now. Plastic surgery had changed his features just enough to where no one would connect Conor Halloran with Sean O'Malley. Only the black hair and blue eyes remained of Sean O'Malley.

Carefully, he slit open the envelope, and caught his breath at the photo that slid out. A laughing Hannah, leaning back against an equally happy Colby, with a baby in her arms. Conor turned the photo over. Luke had written "Sean Lucas G., 9 lbs 4 oz. She insisted and of course, he denies her nothing."

Conor's eyes were bright with unshed tears, touched that they had named their son after him. He closed his eyes, waiting for the pain that was his inevitable companion whenever he thought of her and of the fact that she would never be his. But this time it was different. This time the pain never came. Blinking with surprise, he smiled tenderly at the photo he held and gently traced her beloved face in the photograph. Perhaps he had finally found peace within himself, perhaps now he could finally let go and move forward with his life.

"_A ghrá mo chroí,_" he whispered, "_Rath Dé ort._" 

_Love of my heart, may the grace of God be with you._

--

A/N: 

Irish National Stud in Tully, and County Kildare are real. I made Kilmara up because I'm contemplating writing Conor's romance for NaNoWriMo in November. Or sooner. ;-)

I wrote the entire thing intending to eventually kill Sean. But I found I couldn't do it, not permanently anyway. Since I didn't want to change my storyline, I did this instead.

Thank you all for reading my 2007 Alphabet Series. Special thanks to those who took the time to encourage me with their reviews. I hope you've all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, even if I'm glad it's finally over:-) _Rath Dé ort!_

--  
Gaelic phrases and their meanings from irish-sayings dot com

_A ghrá mo chroí_ - Love of my heart  
_Slán agus beannacht leat_ - Goodbye and blessings with you  
_Dia dhuit_ - Hello (God be with you)  
_Dia is Muire dhuit_ - Hello in response (God and Mary be with you)  
_Go raibh maith agat_ - Thank you!  
_Tá failte romhat_ - You're welcome  
_Rath Dé ort_ - The grace of God be with you  
_Slán agat_ - Goodbye (from the one leaving)


End file.
